Page 2 of Blueberry Cake
Jessica steered the conversation in another direction, and Queenie sighed in relief. But it was short-lived. It seemed that Mr. Rickmann didn’t take rejection well. After a short while he appeared next to her.
“I’m sorry for what Luka put you through. I just wanted to say that I’m not him.” He then handed her a small note. Hesitantly, she took it, and the man’s eyes brightened. “There’s no pressure.”
Queenie watched the man’s back as he walked away, until he climbed into a black pick-up and sped down the street.
“What does it say?” Jessica pressed, leaning over thesmall table between them.
Queenie unfolded the paper in her hand. There, scribbled neatly across a cocktail napkin, was his name and phone number. Her first instinct was to rip it apart, but Allison stopped her.
“What a sweet revenge it would be to seduce his dad. Imagine his face when he sees you after all these years again at the family dinner table with his dad.”
Thatdidsound like something she should consider, and boy did she consider it. Queenie contemplated all night. Once she got home, she long laid awake, unsure of what she should do. Luka had made her life a living hell the moment he’d noticed her so-called disability. Yes, having been born missing a hand had made her life challenging, but never once had she feltdisabled.Nor had her parents treated her as such. This night out had given her more to think about than she’d cared for.
The next morning, she was stirring her cereal when she ripped the band aid off. She typed Boyd’s number into her phone and sent off a quick text.
Hi Boyd,
This is Queenie; from the bar.
Hi Queenie,
I didn’t think I would hear from you at all.
I’m still not sure if this is a good idea.
Would you feel comfortable meeting up for coffee?
Yes. Do you know a good place?
I find the one in Discovery Green good.
When are you free?
I can be ready within the hour.
Give me an hour and a half depending on traffic.
I’ll see you soon.
Queenie
Even as Queenie dressed herself, she questioned why the hell she was doing this. Why did she think it was a good idea to see him? It would do nothing but dredge up old, painful memories. Queenie pulled a baby blue sundress from her closet, one less revealing than the night before. She matched it with some cute, strappy sandals and a clutch purse, tugging her blonde hair into a high ponytail. Of course, it took a few tries to have it sit where she thought it looked best. It didn’t bother her—anyone with two hands could have the same problem. People always seem to be surprised when she told them she did simple things such as her hair without help.
Luckily, Queenie hit minimal traffic driving downtown. She even lucked out with a decent parking spot. The area was unusually quiet considering the absence of any events. She rarely came this way, but found that the park hadn’t changed much since her last visit.
As she approached the café, Boyd stood off to the side speaking on his phone. Maybe she should turn around after all. He seemed rather annoyed with whoever he was speaking to. But before Queenie could enact her plan, thosedeep green eyes locked onto her. “Fix it. I have to go.”
Damn.She approached, trying to swallow her nerves. “Hi.”
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“But you came anyway.” He smiled, revealing a dimple Queenie hadn’t noticed before.
“I guess.” She shrugged rather nonchalantly. “If that phone call was important, you can finish it.”
“And give you a chance to make a break for it?” Boyd crooked a brow at her, lips curling into an amused smile. “It wasn’t that important.”
